


one last night on earth

by mosaicofhearts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, HYDRA sucks, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, because it's bruce, but sex pollen, it's very wanted, no explicit sex because i am ME, will i ever write anything over 3k? watch this space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosaicofhearts/pseuds/mosaicofhearts
Summary: bruce banner gets hit with some kind of fucked up hydra sex pollen, because apparently the universe hates him and wants him to suffer.





	one last night on earth

**Author's Note:**

> idk, i ship bruce banner with the world. i love him with my whole heart.
> 
> honestly, i was meant to be writing a science bros thing and then this happened so /shrugs. (i'm in desperate need of some well-written thor/bruce to read, pls help)
> 
> un-beta'd, so any mistakes are definitely mine! feedback is good, as usual~ 
> 
> also might be working on a thor/bruce college au................................

he smells it before he sees it – this sickly, too-sweet scent that assaults the other guys heightened senses and has him wrinkling his ugly green nose in disgust.

it doesn't take a scientist to figure out instantaneously that something _isn't right_. of course, what did he expect? the storming of hydra bases has gone far too smoothly within the past few weeks, easily enough that it would arouse suspicion in even the least paranoid of men ( which bruce isn't, decidedly. sure, he's calm – kinda has to be, after all – but paranoia has lent itself to him ever since the accident, and that's not something he can shake so easily ). 

and maybe that's the first sign of something bad. the fact that he's still green and huge and, well, _the hulk_ , but his mind is _his_. that semblance of being isn't usually there, and suddenly –

suddenly he's bruce banner again. naked and bruised and swaying from side to side at the abrupt, disorientating rush of the change, but he's decidedly flesh coloured and the world is definitely smaller from down here. except that isn't supposed to happen. for the most part, the other guy decides when the other guy sleeps – and mid mission isn't usually the time or place for that.

he manages to get a mumbled, “what the hell,” out, before the familiar heaviness envelops his mind and he's sinking to his knees, and that, at least, is expected.

\- - - 

when he wakes, it's within the confines of a starchy bed that reminds him too much of hospitals. bruce blinks the sleep-weariness from his eyes, tilts his head this way and that, wincing at the way it feels almost too heavy for him to move, but it's enough to convince him that he _isn't_ in a hospital. not quite, anyway. it has that same blank, antiseptic look to it – that same bleach-heavy smell, that same eerie silence. but there's a – a mirror canvassing the expanse of one wall, and he's smart enough to know exactly what that is. his lip quirks in that self-deprecating manner, raising a hand just high enough to wave at whoever the hell is watching him on the other side of that thing.

he thinks, blearily, that he should perhaps be a little more unnerved about this sudden turn of events. with everything that's gone on in the last few years, though, it takes a lot more to shake him than it should – that, and the fact that he knows, somehow, that he isn't in enemy quarters. that doesn't make the sudden realisation that he's hooked up to an iv an easier, though, the beating of his heart increasing swiftly to near dangerous territory –

“ah, bruce – brucie, pal, i'm gonna need you to calm down there,” tony's voice sounds out over some kind of speaker system, and there's an edge to his tone – worry, concern – maybe fear. bruce can't quite place it, but it isn't as though he's unused to people being _fearful_ around him. “sorry about the – well, all of this. i'll explain it all, just – hang tight for a bit longer, okay pal?”

definitely fear. but not for himself. it causes bruce to frown in confusion, and it's only then that he realises he's barely moved since he woke, pushing himself into an upright position and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and it's – weird. lethargic. feels a little like he's trying to swim through jell-o.

“tony, did you – am i drugged?” and even his tongue feels heavy within his mouth, the room spinning more than it usually does when he wakes from a hulk-induced slumber. there's a bite in his voice, and he can't help that – perhaps he feels a little betrayed that they've _drugged_ him after all this time and then that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that utter despair – “what did he – what did _i_ do?”  


tony sighs over the tannoy, and bruce can practically _see_ him running an expaserated hand over his face, but he doesn't _care_ – “nothing. i swear to you, bruce, nothing bad happened. well. nothing that you were the cause of.” it isn't as much of a relief as he thought it'd be. “listen, you got hit by something in there and we're still trying to work out what it is. this is all just – a precaution.”

he remembers, then, remembers that weird, saccharine gas that seemed to come from out of nowhere. he feels – _fine_ , he wants to say. it feels like every other time he's woken after hulking out, except maybe he's aching a little more and he could definitely do with another twenty four hours sleep – but he's fine.

he's trying to get that message across when he passes out again.

\- - -

he feels like he's on fire.

his skin burns and itches for something that he can't put his finger on, and his first thought when he wakes for the second time is, 'is this hell?'. it'd be funny, if he didn't truly, honestly, suddenly wonder whether he was dying. 

“oh, god – ” bruce arches (literally goddamn arches) off of the bed, and mortification settles into his entire being when he realises he's hard. harder than he's been in a while, harder than he thinks he's been in forever, and jesus christ, could he pick a more uncomfortable moment for this to happen?! he could be _dying_ , but apparently his body isn't quite catching up to that yet.

“uh, bruce, we've got a situation here.”

tony. again. bruce laughs, a bitter, breathless little thing because, gee, _you think_ , and this is definitely going to go down as one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. he's had plenty of those, too, enough to fill an entire lifetime and more than enough for him to wish for no more. but the universe has always been out for bruce banner. that much he knows.

“i need – ” he starts to speak, to request something – water, his mind helpfully supplies – but for some reason he can't get it out. his entire body is thrumming with _need_ , and he chokes on a half bitten moan, blood rushing to his cheeks at the thought that tony is watching this (whatever the hell 'this' is).

“yeah, buddy, we know what you need. and you're really – you're really not going to like this.” that fear is back in tony's voice, even as he's trying to mask it with that blasé humour that fools none of them anymore. “finished running the tests. the gas, it was – well, it messes with your hormones. makes you horny. like, a lot horny.”

at least he sounds as uncomfortable as bruce feels right about now. not that that actually makes this any better. jesus, he's going to hold this over bruce's head for as long as he possibly can, and isn't that exactly what he needs? 

he swallows around a dry throat, trying to ignore the signs his body is giving with all of that mindfulness bullshit, “okay. great. that's – that's fine, right? i'll just wait it out.” what he really wants is to jack off, but it isn't as though he can really say that.

there's a too-long silence, before –

“that's, uh. that's not exactly going to work.” another silence follows, as though tony is mustering the energy to just come out with it, leaving bruce stew there. tony coughs. “barnes has seen this before. in his words, it's – he said 'fuck or die', bruce. this thing could kill you unless...”

laughter perhaps isn't the response tony was expecting, but it's all bruce has. he's upright again, running a hand through his coarse curls (and even that he has to stop when the slight tugging goes straight to his own dick), and trying not to freak out. nobody likes banner when he freaks out, least of all banner. this is all the evidence he needs that someone up there hates him. maybe it's karma for the other guy.

maybe this is a blessing. maybe this is the out that he wanted all that time ago when he tried to blow his own brains out. except there's a small part of him that whispers that things have changed. he will never be at one with the hulk, will never be able to see him as anything more than this ugly, brutish part of him, but he doesn't fucking despise himself as much as he once did. the avengers have a lot to do with that – have _everything_ to do with that. he may still be the biggest freak out there, but he's not the only one and that has to mean something, doesn't it?

“it's fine, tony,” and despite the heat coursing through his veins and the fact that he's still impossibly, painfully hard, his voice is almost without tremor. “don't worry about it. s'about time someone shut down the big guy anyway.”

there's tony's voice, loud and insistent, determined and _earnest_ in a way that makes bruce want to break down (just a little), but he rolls over and shuts it out instead. it's for the best, right?

\- - -

it gets worse. he meditates until the thrum becomes too much, paces until he's sure he's about to lose his damn mind, perches on the edge of the bed with his head between his knees and his fingers pressed to his temple and – 

nothing’s working. not that he expects it too. barnes was with hydra long enough to knows the in's and out's of the shit he came into contact with, and this one is no different. he knows that tony is probably in the lab right now, has been working for the past few hours to try and come up with some kind of miracle cure that'll save his friend, but bruce ran out of hope a long time ago. long before any of this even happened. he knows only to expect the worse out of every situation, and there's no cure for this outside of the obvious, which – well, that's just not going to happen.

the irony of the whole situation is not lost on him. of course, out of all of them, it'd be him to get hit by some kind of freaky sex pollen. the guy with the _control issues_ who hasn't even tried to have sex since – well, since his entire life imploded. the guy who no living person would want to _risk_ having sex with, even if bruce wasn't totally and definitely against the idea. abstinence is just another thing that he has had to reconcile with, and it has never been an issue until now.

sometimes, he truly hates how the world works.

the door flies open for the first time since he woke to find himself in the room (smart; contamination could have been an issue), and it takes him a moment for him to get his wits about him. for the most part, he's been able to ignore the hunger that's pulling apart at his skin – years of battling to control a raging monster has made him good at that, good at retraining himself. but he _knows_ all of that is going to go straight out the window when he sees that it's thor, of all people.

he almost wants to cry, a despairing sound leaving his lips before he can stop it.

“friend bruce,” thor's voice booms around the room as it always does, a steady determination upon his face, mixing with something else – “i am here to cure you.”

of-fucking-course he is. bruce would laugh, if he wasn't so impossibly pissed off (and horny, did he mention that?) at the moment. “no. no, no, no – c'mon, thor, you gotta get out of here.”

the presence of another warm, hot-blooded being is almost like an attack – his skin reaching fever pitch, his dick _throbbing_ between his legs, pupils full-blown – he can only imagine how _desperate_ he looks for it, and god, if only he knew – 

“i am not leaving, friend.” there is a seriousness to thor's expression not often seen these days, his tone sombre but sincere, and bruce can't really be dealing with this right now. like, at all. “i have volunteered my services to save your life. of course, there were others – but i think we can all agree that i am the most sensible choice.” he nods, as if that settles it and – no, no, no.

“listen, thor – ” bruce swallows, tongue flicking out to wet suddenly dry lips, and he can barely focus now, tearing his eyes from that of the gods’ with real effort exerted. “i appreciate it, i really do, but we can't – i can't let that happen. with anyone.”

it's not that he hasn't _thought_ about this. god, he has – a lot, come to think of it – anyone in their right mind would... but there's too much wrong with this. enough so that nothing about it is right. not to mention the fact that he has that slight issue of the hulk (although, now he considers that, the green guy has been pretty quiet throughout this whole fucked up situation; it doesn't mean anything though). 

but he wants. he wants so badly.

“nonsense, friend, we will not let you die. _i_ will not let you die.” thor is brisk and swift, moving forward carefully as though he doesn't want to startle bruce, and it almost makes the smaller man laugh, again, although nothing about this is funny in the slightest. “i am the only one to match his strength if he so wishes to make an appearance, banner. you and i both know that is the truth.”

the mention of the other guy has bruce wincing even through the drugged up haze he finds himself in, a sharp spark of fear hitting his heart at the very thought of it. and that's what he's always been scared of, isn't it? to hear it mentioned so flippantly almost angers him – once again he feels as though he is the only one who takes the threat of himself seriously, the only one who had any idea of the damage he could cause if things went south. it's not like the rest of them haven't seen the hulk in action – they know exactly the kind of chaos he wreaks. yet thor is here, seemingly willing to risk it all in order to save bruce's life, and isn't that so typically heroic of him? bruce has never wanted a hero – and even now, when he finds himself in dire need of one, he knows he can't let anyone risk themselves for him. it isn't worth it.

the shock of thor's hand pressing just slightly against his arm has his skin sparking everywhere, the sensation of ice cold water being poured over the fever hit parts of him, and he can't even think quickly enough to prevent the low and needy moan that leaves his throat, fills the silence in the most awful of ways. his skin feels too heated for blushing to even be possible, but god his body is _trying_ and it makes him want to – makes him want to – 

he isn't one for losing his train of thought, but that hand isn't moving anytime soon, and at least he can blame it on the pollen; blame it all on hydra, those bastards. because all he can feel now is thor's touch, hot and heavy on his arm, sending jolts straight to his groin and causing him to move forward, closer and closer until there's barely any space between them. and thor – thor looks _pleased_ if anything, relieved in a sense that bruce thinks _he_ should be, but all he can think about it is how good it feels and how much he absolutely _needs_ it.

the kiss has his brain short-circuiting, full lips pressing against his own with no hesitancy; committed and certain, everything that bruce has imagined it would be. because this is thor, and he does nothing without conviction. it gets messy quickly, lips opening up to a wet warmth as tongues entangle and maybe bruce isn't the only one making those _sounds_ , but making them he is. he all but crawls into the larger mans' lap, straddling him and pushing him down onto the bed with a force that thor could fight if he wanted –

the last sane thought bruce has is that he's going to die of the humiliation if he ever makes it out of this alive.

\- - - 

it takes _a lot_ of sex, and thank the lord for thor's godlike stamina.

the hulk makes no appearances. bruce survives.

after a few days of flushing crimson whenever he stumbles into thor's presence, and even more occurrences of utter avoidance, he tells himself that everything is fine. that it can all be forgotten about (except for tony, who can't help but joke about it at every opportunity now that he knows that bruce isn't about to die).

he's sat within the communal kitchen at the tower, coffee in hand and newspaper spread out in front of him, when thor enters with a cheerful grin that can only mean trouble as far as bruce is concerned and –

“friend bruce! it is excellent to see you. i have informed our fellow avengers that you are a worthy lover indeed. gratitude is not needed!”

bruce blinks at him as he leaves again, before his head hits the counter top _hard_ and he's groaning and honestly, tony does not need the extra ammunition.


End file.
